


Infected

by vilnolin



Series: Infected [1]
Category: Dark Angel, Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilnolin/pseuds/vilnolin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decisions and actions have consequences. Snapshot into the lives of the Raccoon City Platoon before the events in Genealogy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infected

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Species-ism, gore, violence in excess, ~~people who might not stay dead~~ , crossover  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel. All original characters belong to me, all rights reserved and all lefts reversed. Resident Evil/BioHazard isn't mine either, but oh how I like to play...

 

1

  
  
                “You know, you look like you’re constipated.”  
                With a glance upward and a muttered curse, X5-494, better known as Alec, turned in his seat to look at his Second in Command, none other than 496—Felix MacGyver. His clone was grinning at him. “I have no idea why the fuck you’re smiling at me, and it’s creeping me out so stop. And I do  _not_  look constipated.”  
                “Yeah ya do.” Frankie laughed, “But I have to agree with you, Felix is kinda creeping me out too.”  
                “You love it, 877.” Felix gave her a wink, ignoring the agitated huff from 105. “But seriously, bro, you look like you’re ready to jump with or without a parachute.”  
                Alec bit his lip, stalling as he was acutely aware of the rest of the Raccoon City Platoon staring at him. “It’s nothing. I’m serious.” He waved a hand at Felix, forestalling his interruption. “It’s girl shit, and I  _really_  don’t want to get into it. Seriously.” He glared at Felix, putting the tiniest  _push_  into the feeling to back off, and Felix was shrugging, sitting back in his seat.  
                “Sor-ry. But if it’s ‘cause 452 called you names, you  _really_  need to get your head in the game.” Felix ignored his glare, staring out the window of the military transport they were currently riding. “I told you: I’ve seen this shit before. Really hoped it would never get out.  _Am_  looking forward to blowing the shit outta them though.”  
                “This is an  _extraction_ , Felix.” 105 hissed at him, looking extremely annoyed, “We’re there to help maintain order as the quarantine protocols are enacted. Then we’re supposed to supervise—“  
                “Keegan, I know the mission. And I’m telling you, I’m going to have to blow something up eventually. Probably lots of somethings. And it’s gonna be  _awesome_.”  
                “Dude, I do  _not_  like how excited you are right now.” Misha announced, frowning at him.   
                “You know,  _some_  of us are trying to sleep back here,” Dust grumbled from her seat, “be nice if it was a little  _quieter_.” There were several other murmurs of assent.  
                “Yeah, ok.” Alec mock whispered. Dust flipped him off. “Love you too, Dusty.”  
                “Though, I would like some clarification.” Keegan started, and Felix groaned, letting his head flop down in mock defeat. “Oh come on. You were embedded with the security force we’re here to back up: why the hell do you think we’re going to need to blow shit up?”  
                It was a valid question, one that Alec had been wondering himself. Felix looked completely ready to clam up, until he caught Alec’s gaze. “I swear to whatever god, if you are mind fucking me…”  
                “Nope.”  
                Felix glared at him for another minute before sighing. “Umbrella was experimenting with some weird shit.”  
                “We got the files on the B.O.W.s we might encounter if they lose containment in their research facility.” Misha picked up his packet, and held it out towards Keegan. “I mean, that shit was nasty.”  
                “I’m talking worse.” Felix said, glaring at Misha. Alec sighed—the last thing he needed was for Felix to suddenly get jealous and possessive again. “I’m talking what happens to these people after they’re infected. And you  _know_  they’ve got other, nastier viruses down there. Shit that makes you  _mutate_.”  
                Alec wasn’t sure if Felix was aware he was half out of his seat, but he erred on the side of caution and pushed him back into his seat. “We’ve read the files, Felix.”  
                “Well, to be honest, when have mission files been…well,  _accurate_?” Frankie asked. “But, what else are we going to do? Does anyone else have a genetic immunity?”  
                “About ten percent of the human population,” Keegan muttered, “but good luck trying to get  _them_  on the front lines. I don’t even know how Umbrella managed to get  _their_ people to stay.”  
                Alec rolled his eyes. “Those people are murderers for hire. But once that infection level rises…”  
                “Boom.”  
                Alec let his head fall to his chest, ignoring the laughter that broke out at Felix’s interruption. Oh, this was going to be one fun tour of duty…

2

  
  
                The streets were empty—cars abandoned, apartments left open, stores looted, but not a single person in sight. Twice, they had encountered small squads of Umbrella Security enforcers, but the two factions did nothing more than acknowledge their presence. Umbrella had been quite unhappy with the United States government’s interference, only relenting when presented with the first assembled transgenic unit. They claimed it was out of concern of risking human lives and spreading the infection, but Alec suspected they had been stalling. From everything Felix had told him—away from the rest of the unit—Umbrella had a vested interested in the transgenics that Sandman had specifically engineered. When Alec was asked to hand pick his unit, he did so quite carefully: if Umbrella wanted Sandman’s projects, he’d get them, or as many as they could manage. A couple didn’t want to rejoin the Air Force, and another two were in no state  _to_  head out, so Alec had to deal with a slightly understaffed platoon. The last minute addition of X4-911 was a surprise, though a welcome one: they were in need of a medic, and Clinic was exceptional.  
                But so far, they hadn’t found anyone in need of a medic. They heard screams, and attempted to track them, but even Dust had a hard time identifying the source from the oddly echoing city. They had fanned out, walking carefully along the broken highway that led into the city. Cries and yells had echoed from the suburbs, too, but it was less. It was there they encountered their first survivor.  
                Misha had spotted the movement inside one of the McMansions, a curtain hastily being shoved back into place. The poor girl was barely in her twenties, and had claimed her parents tried to kill her. Alec hadn’t been informed of  _violence_  before death. In hindsight, he should have been more suspicious from the get go.  
                He had broken down the door to the basement, and had been nearly overwhelmed with the stench. The girl—Erica—had been crying, screaming that she had woken up to her mother biting her arm. Clinic had treated the girl’s wound, frowning at it with a calculating look. Misha and Alec had then proceeded into the basement.  
                They encountered her father first, and Misha had lowered his weapon, reaching out to assist the man in standing when the human lunged at him, snarling. Misha leapt back, barely avoiding losing a chunk of his hand. “The guy’s fucking crazed!”  
                “So what do you want me to do about it? Cuff him.” Alec rolled his eyes, casually sweeping the room when Erica’s mother launched herself at him from behind the stairs. He may or may not have yelped, but he got his knife up, holding it against her throat, “stand down, ma’am.”   
                She snarled at him, her teeth stained with blood, and ignored the knife, continuing to push against it, embedding it deeper and deeper. Alec watched in horror as the woman slit her own throat, still snapping at him, her fingers clawing at his BDUs. And worse,  _she wasn’t dying_. “Um, Clinic? We have a problem.”  
                “So do I! Erica’s passed out!” Clinic yelled back.  
                “Well, I’ve got a woman who has her throat slit to the bone and is still attempting to bite my face!” He heard Misha fire a warning shot at the man, but soon Misha’s back hit his.  
                “He’s not going down. I shot him in the  _chest_ , Alec, and he’s not going down.”  
                Alec looked back at the woman—she was having a harder time getting at him now that her spine was blocking his knife. A sudden thought occurred, and he ripped his knife from her neck, burying it into her eye socket to the hilt. With one last spasm, the woman fell, dead. “Execute.”  
                Misha didn’t question the command, he aimed, and fired, and the man fell with a neat hole between his eyes. “He wouldn’t go down, man. And his blood looks funny.”  
                “Grab some.” Alec ordered, looking down at the dead woman, and deciding that he really didn’t need that knife any more. “I’m sure Clinic will be interested.”  
                “Oh I am.” She declared, even as they reached the top steps. “After she stopped breathing, I tried to get a blood sample, see if her bite’s infected.” Clinic held up the vial. “It’s coagulated.”  
                Misha and Alec shared a look. “Um…I  _know_  that doesn’t happen till you’re dead.” Alec said, despite the fact that Misha’s sample looked identical to the one that Clinic was holding. “And those people were fucking crazy, but not dead. Well, not before…now they kinda are…and I’m rambling.” He looked back at Clinic. “What does this?”  
                It was then that Erica decided to open her eyes. Clinic turned, ready to help the girl up when Erica latched on to her forearm, biting down and worrying at it even as she grabbed and scratched at Clinic’s flak vest. This time, Alec didn’t hesitate. The bullet went cleanly through her temple, and Clinic screamed as the wound was torn. “Misha, grab my fucking med kit and give me a bandage!” She yelled, already flushing the wound. “And I’m thinking we’re dealing with the t-virus: something tells me that Umbrella didn’t mention all the side effects.”  
                Alec shook his head. “Ok, so they get crazed and cannibalistic. Because the virus coagulates their blood?”  
                “Sorry.” Clinic grunted, allowing Misha to bandage her arm, “Erica exhibited all the signs of infection: fever, chills…and she  _stopped breathing_. And  _then_  she tried to eat me.”  
                “Please tell me we didn’t just get conscripted into a Romero flick,” Misha shifted uncomfortably, “I hate horror films.”  
                There was a long pause. “Well, I don’t have confirmation she was  _dead_ ; there is a window where the heart can restart itself.” Clinic frowned. “But somehow, I don’t think we’re that lucky.”  
                “Keegan will be happy.” Alec muttered. “She’s always complaining that there’s never enough sniper work.”  
                Their first search teams found only infected. It took them a week to find the first group of uninfected survivors.

3

                “When will you people  _learn_  that only a  _head shot_  will put these things down?” Alec glared at his assembled unit, most of which were looking down. He also shot a glare at the two rather smug looking officers to his right. “You were all at the intel meeting when 496 explained that these things  _mutate_ , and now we lost two civies and 190 nearly lost an eye.” To put emphasis on his point, Alec turned, and shot another moving corpse—its hands already bulging with its metamorphosis. “Our mission parameters have obviously changed. You will  _put down_  any  _human_  showing signs of infection. This so called ‘anti-virus’ has a time-limit, and all three of them are dead anyway.” He sighed, frowning at his abashed unit. “Get to your duty assignments, or get to your bunk. Dismissed.”  
                The five snapped to attention before hurrying off. “And  _you_  two.” Felix and Keegan immediately lost their smirks. “It is not appropriate to ‘teach’ a ‘lesson’. First priority is keeping survivors  _alive_.”  
                “Should I even  _bother_  pointing out they were already infected,  _sir_?” Felix made a scathing noise. “ _I_  know what I’m doing; this isn’t my first dance with Umbrella.”  
                Alec stepped up to him, toe to toe, despite Felix having two inches on him. “And that’s exactly why they made you  _second_  in command: because you’ve already taken this personally.”  
                Felix didn’t back down. “Well Wesker didn’t  _dose_  you, did he?”  
                “I’m just going to step in—don’t want you two having a testosterone fest and leaving me in charge. I’d hate it.” Keegan said, stepping between the two males and gently—but firmly—pushing them backwards and away from each other.  
                Felix shrugged her off, snarling “I don’t need your help!”  
                Alec took that moment to step back as Keegan spun on Felix—the sparks between those two definitely caused explosions—and braced himself for another of the on-again-off-again couple’s fights. However, Keegan had seemingly decided that words weren’t going to express her feelings, and sent an uppercut to Felix’s jaw that sent him staggering back. Alec was chuckling to himself—she had to jump to hit him—but the amusement faded when he realized Felix was prodding at his jaw with confusion: it wasn’t a bruise forming on his chin. “Is that a fucking  _burn_?”  
                “What the fuck did you hit me with?” Felix demanded, looking back at Keegan.  
                She glared at him. “What the fuck did it look like? My fist, dumbass.”  
                “Are you referring to the one that is currently on fire?” Alec asked, cocking an eyebrow, “Because I’d agree with Felix that it  _is_  a bit alarming.” Keegan looked startled, and the flames sputtered and died. “Been practicing, 105?”  
                “Just lost my temper.” She said, shoving her sleeves down.  
                “What the fuck is  _that_  supposed to mean?” Felix looked like he was ready to start wringing answers out of the much smaller female.  
                Keegan didn’t seem impressed. “I dunno; what did Wesker dose you with while you were on assignment?”  
                Alec groaned, covering his face. “Can this just not happen? Or at the very least not now? Preferably not at all?”  
                “Don’t get me started with  _you_ , 494.” Keegan snarled, glaring at Alec, “You  _knew_  he was dosed with one of the  _other_  viruses—we might be immune but that doesn’t stop us from being  _carriers_. Talk about risking lives.”  
                “105…” Alec warned, but Felix was already talking over him.  
                “It’s not like I was planning on  _biting_  one of them. You’re just fucking worried you could catch it.” He gave her a scathing once over. “And considering your new  _ability_ …”  
                “I’m a fucking psionic model, jackass!” Keegan yelled, flames leaping up her arms once again. “One of Sandman’s ‘special projects’. Wanna see my case file? Cause I’ve been pyro since my first heat.”  
                “But not like this.” Felix growled. “Saw you put out a few candles—so what? You ended up a  _sniper_. You don’t think this fire-hands thing is a bit odd?”  
                “Ok, guys, enough.” Alec said, but the two ignored him.  
                “Of course I wasn’t going to show them what I could do!” Keegan yelled, “ Alec told me not to!”  
                Alec winced, knowing Felix was going to be  _very_  pissed. “ _Enough_.” He snarled, putting just enough threat into his growl to remind the other two who was actually in charge. “Keegan, Felix was cleared by Manticore and the US Air Force—the g-virus is  _not_  even contagious in whatever form he was exposed to. “ He turned his gaze to Felix, “And, yes, I told Keegan to hide what she could do; we did what we had to do to avoid dissection, and you know that. And you knew about  _me_. Don’t know about you, but I believe what Manticore may or may not have attempted with her cloning line is  _her_ business.”  
                He let them work though it in their heads for a minute—anger was tough to think through—before he continued. “And  _both_  of you, take it down a notch and just  _fuck_ already.”  
                “Didn’t work.” Felix admitted, still glaring. Keegan colored and huffed, turning away with her arms crossed.  
                Alec wanted to smack both of them. “You’re both fucking lying to yourselves: just fucking admit it already.”  
                Felix’s jaw dropped and Keegan’s red face lost its color. “Admit what?” She asked, cautiously.  
                Yeah, he  _really_  wanted to smack them. “You know what? Just keep trying the fucking thing. But do us all a favor and stop fighting  _constantly_. For all our sanity?” He grasped them both on the shoulders, giving them a winning grin. “And please remember that I can  _sense every fucking emotion_  you two have. Maybe, just maybe, I know what I’m talking about.”  
                Keegan—as usual—pulled away, growling, “Don’t mind fuck me.” And stormed off towards the tower they had erected in front of their makeshift base.  
                Felix looked absolutely livid for a second, before he deflated, “She’s got a point about me being dosed. With Clinic testing positive for t after being bit by that civie and we’re supposed to be  _immune_ , I’m starting to think I need to get tested.”  
                Alec sighed. “I love how  _both_  of you completely missed the point there.”  
                “No, it’s just that you’re wrong.” Felix finally looked back at his younger clone. “Yeah, ok, I’ve got a sweet spot for her, but you  _see_  how she gets under my skin…” he shook his head. “The sex was fucking  _awesome_ , but it’s not worth putting up with…” he trailed off.  
                “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You’ll convince yourself someday.”

4

                It was there, in black and white. “You’re sure?”  
                Clinic sighed, looking really disturbed. “Every one of you.”  
                Alec leaned over the table, fingers twined together, trying to come up with some sort of response.  
                “You’re fucking kidding me.” Frankie phrased it best.  
                “It’s one cruel joke, then.” Dust dropped her test results back on the table. “I’m getting back on sentry duty; even if we’re not immune, we have a job to do.” She excused herself, heading from the room, with Keema close behind her. Devon looked torn, but ultimately headed after his mate, calling, ‘Keema, wait!’ as he followed.  
                “No one’s mutating.” Frankie pointed out, “No one’s getting sick. And no one’s seen any changes.”  
                Keegan held up one hand, allowing flames the engulf it. “Well, I’m having a harder time controlling  _this_.”  
                “I thought I was the only one!” Misha exclaimed. “I woke up this morning with half my bunk floating. Haven’t done that since Manticore.”  
                Alec sighed, frowning. “Yeah, it seems like the shit Sandman gave us is harder to control. But is that exposure or stress?”  
                “It was a risk too big to take.” Clinic admonished. “ _Every_  active Sandman project?”  
                “Wesker was interested. Figured Umbrella would be too.” Alec shot her a glare. “Had to get us in here, right?”  
                “Ever stop to think  _why_?” She ran a hand through her calico hair. “Fuck, I should have never signed on for this.”  
                “Well you did, so suck it up.” Alec looked at the remainder of his squad, forcing himself to remain calm. “I’m changing our mission parameters: I want intel on  _why_  Umbrella is so interested in us. Felix, I need you to sweep the hospital again.” He sighed, accepting Felix’s grumble as acknowledgement. “Guys, we can’t let this break us. We’re the front line—if this gets passed us, we’re looking at a serious end of the world scenario here.” He broke them up for their modified duty roster, and set to give the survivors an…abbreviated…update.

5

  
                “What the fuck is that?!” Alec yelled as Felix pushed past him, a small child tucked in his arms. Behind him, a woman was following, firing steadily at the  _thing_  behind them. “And who the fuck is she?”  
                “Alice.” The woman yelled over her shoulder, “And I’m almost out of ammo, could use a little help.”  
                Shrugging, Alec stepped forward, taking careful aim at the thing’s exposed brain. It seemed to sense his movement, though, and launched a twenty foot tongue at him. Alec dodged to the side just barely, the tongue left a stinking trail of saliva across his flak jacket. “What the fuck?”  
                “Umbrella didn’t name these things; I’ve been calling ‘em lickers.” She calmly waited for him to get his aim, and then she stepped aside, reloading as he started to fire. It went down, Alec gestured for Keegan to jump down, burn it—“You’ve got good aim.” And then Alice actually  _looked_  at him. “Holy shit, you could be his clone.”  
                Alec cocked an eyebrow. “If you’re referring to Felix, then, yes, in fact, I  _am_.”  
                She took a hesitant step back, but Felix had stuck his head out of the apartment complex. “Alec, she was head of security at the Arklay Mansion while I was in Wesker’s team, and one of the operatives left to watch the base after they moved their research to the Hive. Give her a break—they fucked with her too.”  
                “You got fucked with?”  
                Alice looked relieved, “You have no idea.”  
                Alec bobbed his head, “Actually…”

6

  
                “I don’t like him and I don’t trust him.”  
                “Felix.”  
                Felix ignored Keegan’s hand on his chest, and stepped forward again. “I don’t think we should let them in.”  
                “He has  _wounded_  with him.” Clinic argued, already prepping her med kit. “I don’t care if he’s got your heckles up.”  
                Alec looked back at Felix, shrugging. “She has a very valid point.”  
                “He’s…” Felix looked back at the security cam, glaring at the blonde preacher leading the small group of refugees. “Fuck, he reminds me of Wesker.”  
                “Albert Wesker is currently at the CDC attempting to explain exactly  _what_  this virus was designed for and how it broke containment: I highly doubt he’s in two places at once.” Clinic countered.  
                “And  _that_ ,” Felix announced, pointing at the very news article Clinic held up, “Is  _not_  the Albert Wesker I was sent to eliminate. I know his features shift, but I’m telling you, that man is  _not_  Wesker.”  
                “And that preacher? He  _is_?”  
                “I dunno.”  
                Clinic looked smug. “Aren’t you designed to track by scent? Don’t you  _know_  Wesker’s?”  
                Felix glared at the X4. “Ok, he doesn’t smell the same. But he also doesn’t smell  _right_.”  
                “Not too many people do, now.” Alec admitted, frowning. “Keegan, weigh in?”  
                His sniper gave a shrug, still fiddling with the bandage that covered most of her neck. “I honestly don’t care.”  
                Alec fought hard not to roll his eyes. “Now is not the time to get combat blind, 105.”  
                She glared back, “I’m sorry, were  _you_  the one who was just swarmed by fucking  _leeches_ that were  _sentient_?” She shuddered, brushing her hands along her arms as if warding off the phantom sensation. “What the fuck does it matter if we let them in or not? We’re going to end up putting all of them down when another outbreak occurs. And considering they have wounded, wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to assume  _they_  might be infected.”  
                It was one of those command decisions he hated. One that had lives on the line no matter how it played out. But there were children out there, and Alec knew that, despite all, they’d have to give it a chance. “Tell Devon to let them in.”

7

  
                He was up in Keegan’s tower, eyes on the landscape, his radio crackling in his hand. They had new orders: hunker down with the survivors they had found and wait for instructions. The message had been relayed by a voice he hadn’t recognized. Their Air Force contact was ‘unavailable’.  
                Considering what Umbrella had done to set a test for Alice, he was damn sure they were being set up. “Acknowledged. Any further instructions.”  
                He fully expected the radio to remain silent, but it crackled again. “Yes, 494. We’re having issues recruiting, and our man power is severely limited. We have outbreaks outside of Raccoon City, and need reinforcements. Lydecker said you were the…”  
                “Yes, yes.” Alec cut across the man, all too aware of the attempt at not offending him, and annoyed by it. “Are you asking me to return to Terminal City on a recruitment drive?”  
                A long, long pause. “I believe it’s an order, sir.”  
                Alec didn’t envy the kid, he could  _feel_  the tension oozing off of him as if it was coming through the radio waves. But at least he had a timeline now. “Acknowledged. Will radio when at Terminal City. Over and out.” He switched off the radio, not wanting any further orders. “I trust you were listening in?”  
                Keegan’s eyes glowed in the half light, still perched on the highest point of the scrap metal tower. “You’re thinking they want more of Sandman’s?”  
                “Last one enlisted last week.” Alec sighed. “Except…”  
                “452?”  
                “Her name is Max.” Alec corrected, earning an agitated huff from Keegan. “And yeah. She’s the one that got the runes and shit.”  
                “The one you left in charge of TC?”  
                Alec shifted uncomfortably, “Well, technically, she doesn’t  _know_  she’s not in charge of TC. I left Mole in charge…covertly.”  
                For the first time in weeks, Keegan laughed, and it wasn’t out of some twisted coping skill. “Oh boy, is she going to love it when she finds out.”  
                “From what Mole’s been telling me, she’s starting to figure it out.” He sighed. “Well, I gotta make a show for Umbrella, make like I’m following ‘the Air Force’s’ orders. I want this place siege ready—we’ve faced every fucking thing they had in their labs, and I’m not looking forward to facing them all at once.”  
                “Doubt they’d be that obvious. We’d displace.” Keegan leapt from her perch, landing lightly next to him. “Felix will hold the fort, and I promise not to set any  _living_  humans on fire…again.”  
                Alec chuckled to himself, standing up and getting ready to head back into base camp. “You know that you can only use that excuse once, right? No one’s gonna buy it a second time. Felix didn’t buy it this time.”  
                She huffed. “It was an honest mistake. Seriously. He  _smelled_  dead.”  
                “Like I said, the excuse only works once.” He patted her shoulder. “Keep watch, I’ll catch everyone up to speed.” He turned to leave, glancing back out over the remains of the destroyed city. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”  
                He had it all planned out, had baited the trap for Umbrella, for Wesker, and had gotten the exact response he wanted. So why was he feeling like the trap was closing on him?

8

  
  
                He didn’t think she knew he was there. Max was sitting at her desk, staring at the calendar he had given her with what looked like  _tears_  in her eyes. And every fiber of her was exuding this  _longing_.  
                It was too much for him to hope for, and he shifted his stance, allowing his shadow to fall in the doorway. It took her barely a second to notice it.  
                “You have some nerve!” He cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused with the pitch her voice hit. “It’s been  _months_!”  
                “Well aren’t you a breath of fresh air, Maxie.” He said, grinning, “Nice to see you too. Glad to hear none of the humans you know are  _infected_.” The irony of is statement was not lost on him, but he hid it in a rather teasing once over. “Damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes. The girls in the unit just don’t have any ass.”  
                She sputtered, and he grinned inwardly. Whatever Umbrella’s motivation for this recruitment drive, he was glad; however much Max hated to admit it, he now knew she had been  _worried_  about him. And the thought warmed him. Now he just needed to get her to see past every  _human_  worry Wheels had put in her head.  
                Yeah, like that was going to happen.


End file.
